


In For A Copper

by aliitvodeson



Series: I Write Porn Like It's A Bedtime Story [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Drugging, Finger Fucking, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, bottom!John, graphic description of rape, threats of rape, top!jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliitvodeson/pseuds/aliitvodeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>However well trained a man might be, there are points at which panic comes all too easy. Breaking point, pressure fractures, these all play a singular part in taking a man's strong mind and turning it into a bowl of pudding.</p><p>Jim Moriarty delights in brokenness.</p><p>John Watson was his to break down, to set aflame and to build back up anew from the ashes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In For A Copper

**Author's Note:**

> Read the taggs, please.

John Watson is not a man given to panicing. He does not overreact; he handles. He refuses to scramble; things will be dealt with calmly. Nothing is to be rushed; everything must be done right the first time. There has never been any room for those sort of mistakes in his life. He was a neat child, making lists and keeping track of his homework in the collected manner that so many parents wish their child would master. University and med school taught him the importance of calculated responses, while the career soldiers he trained under drilled the necessity of timely reactions. The skills his instructors praised came naturely to him.

However well trained a man might be, there are points at which panic comes all too easy. Breaking point, pressure fractures, these all play a singular part in taking a man's strong mind and turning it into a bowl of pudding.

Jim Moriarty delights in brokenness.

He runs fingers over the skin of John's arm, and smiles at the doctor's shiver. He licks his lips, and watches John's baby blue's snap close. Even when he does something as natural as breathing, the former soldier treats him with a muttered curse. Granted the breathing had been done over a senstive nipple and Jim hadn't spared the thought of avoiding touching his teeth to the puffy bud, but he would take his pleasures all the same. John Watson was his to break down, to set aflame and to build back up anew from the ashes.

"Don't...ple...please..." John is so far gone that muttered cries for help and whispered sentences are the only words he can mange. Mostlyy he simply whines now, drawn out and shakey under Jim's assult. Each failure to speak makes a crimison blush spread over John's cheeks.

"Not just yet Johnny boy. I think you can do a little better for Daddy." Jim closes his lips over John's left nipple, no teeth this time. Just warm lips and a hum from deep in his chest.

"N-No...Do-D..." Oh but John is so adorable when he loses control. As John's hands fist in the sheets and his hair hits the pillow, Jim works his way down John's skin, sucking and nipping as the mood takes him, clearly headed to John's groin. The dctor continues to beg him in a voice somewhere between hoarse and desperate. Jim doesn't know which side of the line he wants it to be.

"There, there, Johnny. Daddy's almost ready." That's a complete lie. Jim's been ready for the past hour, from when John had first woken up, to now, with the blond in nothing but his alarmingly red pants. Jim's cock is hard, straining against his trousers and begining to ache like every teenage boy's idea of blue balls. "Do you want Daddy to fuck you dry?"

John's eyes open, wide, a hazy snap of sudden ocean in the sunset spread of his skin. "No, please, Jim don't." The panic Jim can almost taste. The fear he feels, in the leaping heartbeat between John's thumb and wrist. "Please, I'm begging you, anything but that."

"Anything?" Jim raises a solitary eyebrow. John's heartbeat speeds up as the realization of what he has just said hits him. "I've got plenty of chores that a helpful little boy could do around here."

John bites his lip. Jim can hear the gears clicking over, the slow processing in John's mind. Finally, after what feels like another hour, "what do you want?"

Jim pushes his eyebrow higher.

John seems to sag against the bed. Even Jim's knees, pressed against his inner thighs, aren't enough to hold the tension taunt for so long. "What do you want, Daddy?"

Jim smiles, the same one he wore at the pool to meet Sherlock. "Why Johnny, I thought you would never ask." He leans down, pushes his lips against John's, grin when the other man turns his face away. John's neck is now exposed, and Jim licks it like a man possessed. "I want you," he says while flicking his tongue over a faint bruise, "to fuck yourself open. Spread your precious little leg, stick your fingers inside your cunt, and fuck yourself for Daddy." He circles his tongue around a protruding vein, imaging the pounding blood pouring over John's skin and into his mouth. He nearly comes.

"And if I don't?" John appears to have found his old courage, voice coming out of his lips with only that small tint of fear.

"Then I'll rip you raw, Johnny boy. Rip you open, and when I've left my come inside your worthless cunt, I'll use my knife. Then my gun, umbrella andd all three at once. I'll fuck you dry until you scream like the pathetic slut you are." Even as his words sound hard and cruel, Jim presses soft kisses against the hallow of John's neck. "I'll fuck you until you rip and bleed. And then I'll let you sit for a week, before I do it again. And again, and again, until you're nothing but a lifeless fuck doll for me and my men to enjoy."

John's face is pale. There is no trace of the burning blush in his cheeks, or the painful crimison of anger. Just pale white. Like he's already, and Jim is rutting against a corpse. 

He does not have to wait for an answer long.

"Alright. I'll do it."

John's hands start to push at Jim, trying to get the stronger man to roll off him.

"Ah ah ah, Johnny boy. I never said anything about moving." There's a second of dullness, then a spark that looks like a wave crashing against the cliffs. Jim takes the hand that has been pushing at his elbow, and guides it around to their waists. "Fuck yourself while I'm on top of you, Johnny, or I'll have to clean my gun. I'm not sticking a good weapn inside your whore bottom."

Slowly, in shudderinng movments that Jim can feel, John works a single finger inside himself. Then another is added, and John's eyes close over. Jim is begining to lose interest, even as John takes three of his fingers. A gasp echoes around them.

"That's it, Johnny boy. Fuck yourself good and properly now.

John must have found his prostate, for now his hips are bucking against Jim, and John is panting, only panting isn't so hot as feeling the press of John's erect cock rubbing against Jim.

It takes a fee strokes to bring John to completion. With Jim, the sight of John's messy shirt and tasty bread, is enough. Jim pulls back, surveys their handy work, slides off John's chest to the bed, then the floor. "Thanks Johnny boy. That was absoletly amazing!"

John groans and rolls onto his side.


End file.
